


Warm White Winter

by Elleh



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Cuddling, Kotatsus Weren't Hurt In This, M/M, Too Many Kisses, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 04:29:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13205985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elleh/pseuds/Elleh
Summary: Koushi remembers only a kiss from last night and years of pinning and he's had enough.





	Warm White Winter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sisaboo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sisaboo/gifts).



> Ho, ho, ho!! This is a secrets santa for [Sisa](http://sisaturday.tumblr.com/)! Hope you like it!

There’s a blistering snowstorm when Koushi steps out of his house. White swirls around, covering every shape and color from the deserted street. It slaps him with such force the hangover still lingering in his system disappears instantly. And so does the sensibility of his nose and the tip of his ears.

Koushi’s pretty sure he’s about to freeze to death, and shivers as he hugs himself as tight as he can. 

He’s been living in Tokyo for too long. Miyagi’s winters are something short of unforgettable, but enough snow nights in the blue glow of the big city can paint over any memory. Koushi’s college life has overwritten enough of those for him to know how certain that is. 

And so had the night before. It’s impressive how two years of living away, of crossing the line of adulthood, of long hours of classes and part-time jobs and finally tasting alcohol can change a person. Koushi hadn’t really thought about it until yesterday night when, wiggling, he’d made his way home with eyes big as moons and a knot the size of Okinawa stuck on his throat. 

Probably something akin had been stuck in his stomach, but after the long trip he’d taken to the bathroom, he couldn’t be sure if it were old feelings, or just the bad settling of cheap sake.

After that,  Koushi had spent half the night wide awake, unable to tell if what still felt warm on his lips had been a drunken reality of a foolish dream, too close to his wildest fantasies to be anything but painful.

He walks through town like a ghost, feet dragging and pale as the snow surrounding him. Koushi moves purely out of will, the weak muscles sore after a long day of ice skating, of falling over and of regretful acts he still has trouble thinking of. Curse him and his vivid memory. Curse his muscles and their  _ tactile _ memory. One would think a kiss would last less than a handful of falls ending in bruised skin.

Well, as Koushi knows now, one would be  _ wrong _ .

Not even the frozen breeze can kill off the soft reminder of what branded Koushi’s mouth last night. Even with his hand gloved, when Koushi brings the tip of his finger right on his mouth, he still feels it. A burning mark never fading.

He rushes his steps on instinct then, and his balance breaks in the slippery road. Like a bird trying to take land, Koushi opens his arms and his eyes in equal amounts, and magically manages to keep himself standing. His heart pounds like drums, but the warmth in his lips never eases. 

It’s almost thirty minutes later that Koushi makes it to Daichi’s door. He’s breathing heavily, and his feet are one second from falling off. A burning feeling has started crawling up his nose and around the sides of his face, but Koushi can’t quite tell if it’s anger, shame or a fever.

He rings the Sawamura’s household’s bell anyway. In the haze of his current mindset, there’s no regard for any of Daichi’s relatives, or the weirdness of Koushi, being up so early morning, walking around in the mid of a snowstorm.

Koushi wobbles. The door opens.

And the burning feeling lights up. Koushi’s not red anymore. He’s in flames. 

“Suga,” Daichi musters, voice broken and hoarse. There’s sleep in his eyes still, and Koushi darts his eyes down to see he’s still wearing his sleeping clothes —a blurry memory of Koushi dropping a glass full of oiled paint on that shirt flashes as soon as Koushi sets eyes on it. “What are—”

“Let me in before I die. And I explain. Later.” Koushi manages to say, but he’s surprised Daichi understands at all, given the way his teeth chatter. 

He’s been holding his upper arms for so long, he has trouble letting himself go even once he steps inside Daichi’s house and the warmth from it starts clearing his muscles. Koushi’s brain must have frozen partially, because he’s already spilling his guts out before Daichi can even lock the door.

“I’m so pissed at you.” His teeth rattle, and the words come out uneven and low. Daichi stills a second before turning around. Koushi can’t but grimace at the sight of him, right out of bed, still warm and soft from sleep. Something weird swirls in Koushi’s stomach. “I’m really, really mad right now.”

“I can see that.” Daichi arches an eyebrow, but there’s no way Koushi can answer him the same way. The muscles in his face are barely following any of his orders at this point, and Koushi can’t assure he has any at all. “You’re mad enough to kill yourself in a snowstorm. Smart.”

“Cut–cut the bu–bu–llshit. Dammit, I need–warmth.” 

Daichi grabs his hands and pulls them away from himself, finally ungluing his fingers from his own arms. Koushi sighs in relief, and tries to wiggle himself out of his coat when Daichi takes it off him. Before he knows, he’s been pushed through the corridor, his gloves and scarf forgotten together with his coat and shoes. Koushi’s knuckles are purple when he dares to glance at them.

“Get in. I’ll make you tea,” Daichi says, pointing at the kotatsu. Koushi’s a bit ashamed of the way he moans at the sight of the blessed table and the heavy futon surrounding it. 

He’s shameless when he jumps in, and Koushi couldn’t care less. Legs, thorso, arms and even his nose go under the table, all weirdly packed and together with the most loud of pleasure sounds. Koushi could cry from the soft sting of his limbs coming back to life thanks to the heated table and the heavy futon. 

“I see you made yourself home.”

“Yes,” Koushi musters, eyes narrowed, from under the blanket. Daichi stares at him, fists at his hips, a shadow on his gaze. Koushi wants to take the tea, waiting for him on the table, but that would mean facing Daichi  _ and _ the cold. “Thank you.”

Daichi sighs. Loudly. It’s not a happy sigh. 

“Get in?” Koushi mumbles, futon still over his mouth.  _ If he makes a weird face I’ll play dumb _ , but Daichi frowns before doing as told. His feet are warm against Koushi’s shins. Koushi doesn’t move. “Thanks,” he says again, and Daichi nods.

“Are you gonna drink your tea?”

“In a sec.”

Resting his head on his hand, elbow on the table, Daichi’s eyes never leave Koushi’s. It’s another warmth, one clearing the bitting cold from Koushi’s inside better than tea ever could. “You don’t look as hangover.”

“I did walk through a snowstorm for an hour.”

Daichi’s lips twitch. Koushi wants to kiss them. Instead, he wiggles under in the kotatsu. 

“My head’s a bit…”

“It was an interesting night.”

That arched eyebrow again. The heat’s getting dizzy. Koushi has the most astonishing need of standing up and kissing Daichi. And that eyebrow. Gods, he’s gross.

“That’s an understanding.”

“Are we gonna do this all day?” Koushi asks, halfway exasperated, halfway amused. “Talk around it till we are so tired of it we will just leave it for another day?”

“What do you wanna talk about?”

Koushi sits, finally. He slides up slowly, intently brushing his legs with Daichi’s. Electricity flickers. Koushi keeps his gaze stubbornly locked with Daichi’s.

“How you told me you’ve had a crush on me since our third year after you were dared to kiss me.”

Daichi’s shoulders stiffen. “It was since our second year, but keep going.”

Koushi wants to throw something at him. And then kiss him. His mouth burns, and the more he thinks of it, the more intense the feeling becomes. 

“You should have said something before.”

“Well,” Daichi shifts in his sit, and his knee brushes Koushi’s. Something heavy and bright goes from where they touch through every part of their bodies. Koushi’s breathless by the time Daichi says, “I didn’t. I never thought— You know why I didn’t.”

Koushi knows. Still, he can’t care one bit when the knot in his stomach is starting to feel exactly like the knot he’s had in his heart since their years of high school. One should get over a crush when there’s almost no contact with said crush over  _ two _ years, but here Koushi stands, with a worryingly heavy light stuck where his heart should be. If it beats a bit faster, it will probably explode. 

“It stings that you only kissed me because Oikawa dared you,” Koushi musters, and he’s so surprised by his words his hand actually cups his mouth, as if trying to catch them. He hasn’t meant to say that. In fact, he was about to say something salty and uncaring, maybe something sexy enough as to steal Daichi’s lips a second time. 

“Oh.”

Koushi regrets not being under the futon. His heart stutters, and unable to answer Daichi’s gaze, he grabs the cup and puts it in front of his face. The warmth of the tea kisses his skin. Koushi pretends the blush now painting it red comes from the heat, and not from the overwhelming shame of knowing himself discovered. 

“Suga…”

Koushi shakes his head.

“Suga, can you please put the cup down?”

“No, thank you.”

Daichi’s sigh is so heavy it shakes Koushi’s bones. Or maybe it’s not Daichi’s exasperation but Koushi’s nervousness, what’s shattering his nerves’ control. The hot cup brands Koushi’s palms, the prickleing of the contrast between his still cold hands and the heat travelling up his arms. Koushi bites his lower lip. Daichi grabs his wrist, so tenderly it almost a ghost touch, and forces Koushi to put his hands on the table.

Koushi stubbornly avoids his gaze. The table have several marks and burns he learns by heart, so aware of Daichi’s fingers still locked around his skin his heartbeat starts matching his.

And it’s going crazy.

“Suga— Koushi.” Koushi’s heart stutters as his eyes, unbidden, jump up and into Daichi’s. There’s a glow of softness and fear and things Koushi doesn’t dare hope for. “Why did your really come here?”

Daichi’s eyes are mesmerizing this close, with the swirling heat of the tea painting them, with the quiet fall of the snow outside. Koushi has no control. He’s looking at him, drowning in him, and before the question registers properly, he answers, “I wanted to kiss you again.”

The blush doesn’t surprise anyone. Koushi’s sure it hasn’t left his cheeks since he stepped inside anyway, but now it burns like a candle lit right on his skin. Daichi leans forward, and Koushi’s lips part because they are treaturous things.

“Suga…” Koushi makes a strangled sound and he tries, gods, he tries so hard to tear his eyes away from Daichi’s lips, but they are magnets Koushi can’t fight against. Ah, the promises they hold. “Yesterday’s dare?” Koushi manages to nod. “I asked Oikawa.”

“You asked what?” Koushi’s lips burn with the memory. 

Daichi huffs, a ring of amusement. “The dare. I asked Oikawa to dare me to kiss you.”

That does it. Koushi stares back up, Daichi’s eyes filled with glee. “Oh.”

“Oh, indeed.”

A second ticks. It’s soundless, just how snowstorms ought to be. They stare at each other, as if they hadn’t already memorized to the bone how they look. Daichi’s lips twitch. Koushi doesn’t even think.

They meet halfway, a kiss on the corner of a warm kotatsu. It’s better, way better than the sloppy, drunken kiss they shared last night. As innocent as it is now, the simple touch of their lips is enough to lighten a whole city. Koushi’s bones shake. His heart shakes. When he closes his eyes, there are fireworks in their darkness, and nothing has ever felt more perfect than this moment.

Daichi barely gives him a second to breathe when they part, for he’s already on his mouth again, teasing his lips with his own, digging his nails on the back of his neck, deep into his hair. A mist takes over Koushi’s consciousness. Who needs to think, when one’s been kissed to oblivion. 

They kiss and kiss and kiss, and at some point Koushi crawls out of his side of the kotatsu and into Daichi’s. Narrow as it is, Koushi has given himself the perfect excuse to be all over Daichi. The heat of the table has started to be insoportable, but the uncomfortableness of it barely registers. 

The tea is already cold when they finally stop, panting and gasping, chests raising in sync in uneven breaths. Koushi rests against Daichi’s arm, both laying on the tatami staring at each other. Their legs tangle. Koushi smiles, wide and warm and glowing, and softly pulls Daichi closer to him.

“Hi,” Daichi musters, a soft red on his cheeks. Koushi doesn’t stop the urge. He leans forward and kisses them both, left, right, the tip of Daichi’s nose. 

He giggles softly when he goes back to Daichi’s arm. Daichi has the sweetest of expressions. “Hi.”

Koushi didn’t know staring could be so… meaningful. Yes, he wants to kiss Daichi some more, and then maybe snuggle against him and take a long nap, but. This here, simply staying close to each other without needing to contain his own feelings… this is what Koushi has been yearning for. After years in high school holding his need to let his touch linger, of darting his eyes away during practice and camp and everything in between, of keeping the words bottled down scared of what they’d entitled if they ended up spilled. This moment sums up to be the best result Koushi could have ever imagined from that painful path.

So simple. So charged and yet so beautiful. 

Daichi grabs Koushi’s hand. Their fingers meet and fall against each other and Koushi’s fascinated by the way it feels. 

“You’ve warmed up.”

“Yes, thank you,” Koushi says with innuendo, and Daichi laughs before pulling from his hand.

“I didn’t know—” Daichi closes his eyes for a second. Koushi, as if he’s been doing it for years, brushes his knuckles with his fingers, reassuringly. “I didn’t know this could happen.”

“That’s a thing, you know.” There’s confusion gleaming in Daichi’s eyes when he opens it. Koushi smiles. “ _ Talking _ . If you talk, you actually figure things out.”

“Thanks, smartass.” 

Koushi laughs at him. And he’s still laughing when Daichi kisses him, trying to quiet his amusement. And again, when it doesn’t work the first time. Koushi lets himself be kissed, because having Sawamura Daichi pinning him to the floor, all muscles and heat, has been the number one in his list of fantasies. 

“Koushi,” Daichi musters at some point, between kiss and kiss. Koushi’s head spins a bit at the sound of it. No one has ever said it with such  _ intent _ , as if Koushi’s name meant something  _ more _ . “Koushi, Koushi, Koushi.”

Koushi kisses Daichi senseless as a reward. They end up knocking on the kotatsu more times than not, and Daichi hits his wrist trying to turn their positions. Koushi laughs, and Daichi kisses his laugh away. 

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” Daichi explains when Koushi complains about this rain of shut up kisses. “Kiss your laugh. It tastes better than I imagined.”

Koushi doesn’t complain anymore.

Not about the shut up kisses, at least. 

He does complain about the warmth, and Daichi turns the kotatsu off. 

He complains about him being the one making the first move, so Daichi proclaims them boyfriends (one can’t deny Koushi’s joy is as if witnessing the most beautiful of sunrises at the sound of that). 

Koushi complains about Tokyo and how they’ve managed to spend two years without seeing each other. Daichi just kisses him, because that’s a stupid remark and an even stupider fear. Koushi lets himself be kissed shut, because he might have just said that just for that kiss.

The day goes by with a storm of kisses and whispered confessions; just the tip of the iceberg, but the gleaming promise of what’s hiding underneath. Koushi tells Daichi,  _ I’ve dreamt of you since second year too. _ And Daichi tells Koushi,  _ I looked for you in every train I ever took while I lived in Tokyo _ . 

Koushi drinks from those truths, and from the ones unworded, and from those yet to come. At nightfall, Daichi puts his coat and his boats and takes Koushi home, always holding his hand. As if it were the most normal of things. As if this has been their routine since the very beginning.

“Well, here we are,” Koushi says in white, nose buried in his scarf. 

“Lift your head.”

Koushi does. The kiss tastes of cold and dry lips and of promises and a love so old and yet so new it’s almost palpable. 

Koushi wants to say,  _ thank you _ , but instead he says, “Daichi. Pick me up for breakfast?”

“I’ll be here.” Daichi’s smile could be categorized as wicked. “See you tomorrow, Koushi.”

Koushi shivers and smiles and glows and can’t keep his heart from beating furiously happy for the rest of the night.  

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://negare-boshi.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  
> 
> //i love these two and it was hella hard to write fluff.


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